


Wind, Sea, and Sand

by rasko1nikov



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Childhood Friends, Drinking, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:22:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29607309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rasko1nikov/pseuds/rasko1nikov
Summary: "He stumbled closer and sat on the patch of floor next to my bed, staring at me with a quality that I wasn’t sure I liked. His eyes were so intense and mean, known to steer the eyes of his peers towards the ground if they’d strayed too long on his. I had never minded though, and at that moment I felt that if he looked away, I might crumble and die."Told from Armin's first person narrative
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Wind, Sea, and Sand

He stumbled into the room long after quiet had blanketed the night. I felt a pinch in my chest when I heard his footsteps; sporadic and lacking rhythm. He was either drunk or doing a traditional jig, and I decided that though as funny as it would be, the latter was the less likely option. My thoughts were confirmed when I heard the sound of his uneasy breathing, coming out all desperate and hurried, like it’d been years since he had the pleasentry of air.  
He stumbled closer and sat on the patch of floor next to my bed, staring at me with a quality that I wasn’t sure I liked. His eyes were so intense and mean, known to steer the eyes of his peers towards the ground if they’d strayed too long on his. I had never minded though, and at that moment I felt that if he looked away, I might crumble and die.  
“I want to leave,” His nose was close to mine and I could smell the sourness on his breath,  
“You’re drunk,” Eren had a habit of succumbing to the pressure of his comrades. We weren’t supposed to have alcohol, but the section commanders seldom payed that rule any respect, and more often than not, some would slip into the grasp of the cadets. When we were small, I thought it had something to do with his size, but then his shoulders grew strong and his legs tall, but his need to impress stayed nestled in its stubbornness. Sometimes it took form in extra laps during grey, morning runs. Sometimes in arm-wrestles with Jean when they were both red in the face and hazy in the eyes. Sometimes it took form in booze that snuck into dirty, rebellious hands. He immensely regretted these nights the morning after, sobered up, vomiting a rainbow of toxins behind a tree, with Mikasa whispering concerned nothings and reprimands in his ear. She’d rub his back with the love of a mother, but something else in her eyes. Something that went never said, but always noticed.  
If he was tipsy, he was all smiles. All jokes and hot breath, grand proclamations that, before I’d learnt not to take seriously, would burn in my ears for days to come. He laughed at the world and the world laughed back at him. But his happy-go-lucky state would melt into something angrier. He’d remember just about how fucked the world is, cursing the walls that kept us chained in like lambs, or the titans that blocked our way from the endless outside. He’d sit on a table, hand in a fist and eyes flickering around the room; manic, like a little flame waiting to roar in all its glory. Eren was all fire and heat until all of a sudden he wasn’t. Until he’d burn up and out with a sad little spark and a ribbon of smoke.  
Other times, the alcohol would engrave impulse and adrenaline into his brain. Pure euphoria would filter through his vision; spilling into his lungs, eyes, fingertips, and bones. He would be drunk on hilarity; everything was a must, no wasn’t a word that could register in his brain. His instincts were usually spontaneous, and always mildly psychopathic. Yet, in his states of buzzed impulse, there I would be, waving away the clouds that fogged his vision, reminding him of his own undeniable mortality.  
“I want to leave,” he repeated, “Together. Tonight.” I let myself exhale sharply out of my nose.  
“That’s stupid. You don’t actually want to, anyway. We’re comfortable here. Safe.” This I knew, and I let myself disconcern the topic. His eyes widened and he pushed my shoulder.  
“Don’t you want to see it?” He said slowly.  
“See what, dumbass?” At times like these, it was crucial that I played into his schemes-for a little while at least- until he was able to teeter out of his mood.  
“The sea.”  
God. I thought. More than anything.  
Instead I reached up to touch his arm and said, “We will. But not tonight.”  
“I’m so tired,” he said. He didn’t look down as where I held his arm, so I guessed that he hadn’t noticed. So I kept it there, enjoying the contact and his ignorance as he kept talking. “I’m so tired of waiting. Of the experiments.”  
“Me too, Eren.” I replied, but it lacked confidence and came out more as a whisper. His hand moved up towards my pillow, where I was still laying. He moved a string of hair out from where it blocked my eyes, and I wondered selfishly if he was going to remember this in the morning.  
The training was harder on him than the rest of us. We were all tired, we’d crawl back into bed at the end of the day with shaky legs and eyes that fought like the devil to stay open. There was never enough food to satisfy or hours of sleep to fully replenish, but still we continued on. But it was different for Eren. His bones ached the same ways mine did, but when I looked at him at dinner, looking at his own plate with distaste, there was something darker.  
He had seen the view of crushed homes and citizens from above. He had felt the familiar rubble of brick under his feet. He had seen through a monster’s eyes and screamed through its mouth. No matter how many times I held him against my chest or whispered that it wasn’t his fault, I could never erase that view. So sooner than later, I stopped trying.  
“Tell me about what we’ll do,” he said, “when we finally make it there.”  
When I started talking, he broke his gaze on me and closed his eyes. No, I thought, come back. But I abandoned this thought when I felt him lean into my touch.  
“You’ll be able to smell it before we’re even there. The salt, I mean. And then we’ll hear the waves lapping against one another. Like the ones at the creek when we were young, except these will be bigger. Maybe even big enough to knock Mikasa down. And then we’ll see the line where the sky hides behind the water, where the two diverge…”  
We stayed like that for some time longer, even after I stopped talking. I willed myself to stay awake for the two of us, perhaps to remember it just in case he woke up and didn’t. But eventually, the night’s thick silence lulled me to sleep as I looked at his sleeping face leaned against the wall next to my bed, his hands still woven together with mine.

**Author's Note:**

> A series of short, pretentious, and potentially angsty eremin oneshots. This is mostly just practice for me to pick up writing again before I start a longer fic.
> 
> This is my first time writing fanfic, like, ever, so any feedback is appreciated :) have a lovely day yall


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